They Call it a World
by Werewolf of Fire
Summary: And a world holds a lot of people and even more of their experiences. 03: Find Me in the Dark
1. Anal

**Disclaimer: **Simply put... All the characters and ideas canon to _MAR: Marchen Awakens Romance _belong to Nobuyuki Anzai, and I make no money off this. The OCs, however, belong to me, as does whatever plot that shines through.

_Warnings: _Crack, AU and swearing (from me). Warnings will change every chapter. Other than that, all spelling/grammatical errors are my own. If you spot any, mention them and I will fix them. I also have no sense of English living, all of it is from my brain.

Seems everyone's got one of these going, da?

In an attempt to get myself to write more, I'm starting up a couple of free for all fics that are based on prompts I've seen around the place. I see Peta, Ash, Galian and Nanashi popping up a bit in this collection, though I'll attempt to have a go at other characters. Expect drabbles, one-shots, two-shots, yaoi, het, yuri, angst, humour, crossovers, crack (a_ lot _of crack). If you have a prompt or a suggestion, please feel free to leave a review, but don't expect it to be completed. It all depends on how inspired I am.

Music: Kumikyoku Nico Nico Douga (Final Mix ver.) - and it's addicting, especially at about 7 minutes, 40 seconds onward.

Chapter Summary: There's a war going on and Peta's set on fighting.

* * *

**They call it a World**

**Anal**

It was normal for the weather to be at least somewhat grey in London. Even the summer's air was moist with the promise of rain, whilst the sky was always dabbed with messy splatters, like a monotonous sky in an old black and white photograph.

But that was outside. Inside, Peta and himself had set up a comfortable arrangement. They had their umbrella stand practically glued to the floor just inside the front door, whilst a step further down the hall was their coat rack (Tom couldn't remember the last time it was bare). Their stained carpet was covered with a scratchy mat that said, "HELLO, NOW GET OUT" and was smudged with black and brown from use. Their trek throughout the house varied then, depending on the day.

It was a Monday, and the buses had proved once again that they didn't follow any sort of timetable. Tom was lucky enough to have the woman with a grin like a manic cat driving, otherwise he would have been strolling in at midnight. He shook his umbrella, splattering droplets all over his already muddy shoes and the drenched bottoms of his slacks.

Tom knew there was something wrong the moment he walked through the door. Usually the house was pleasantly warm, especially since autumn had just started. And whilst it _was_ warm, there was an oppressive feeling of absolute hatred and simmering anger lingering around the house.

He hung up his thick, midnight blue coat, stuffed his keys back into his bag with a sharp clatter, before he threw the bag over his head and hung it off one shoulder. He edged towards the main room quietly, his steps barely audible as he crept.

Had they been robbed again? Was Peta okay? Was Rolan attempting to make them a 'surprise' dinner again? The boy should know better; he'd nearly burnt the house down during his last attempt!

The living room was the largest room in their small house. It was double the size of either one of the bedrooms. It doubled as a living room and a dining room. Spartan in decoration, it held few personal items: Tom had a photo of his parents and younger brother, whilst Peta had a few of his mother (she was a beautiful woman, and more than slightly nosey, unfortunately for them both). They also owned a holey sofa, an armchair, a little lamp that sat beside the sofa, on top of an expensive, stained oak table behind the sofa. On the dining room side of the room, there was a large, rectangular dining table. It was a present from Tom's parents, second hand, but it did its job even if there were large grooves in the top. It was to the left of the door leading into the kitchen. The room was spotless, just like he'd left it. The small television they'd managed to find was still in its proper place on the strong cabinet Tom's grandfather had made him, and Tom's small stereo was still beside his beloved throne as well.

Tom stuck his head into the room. Ah, now he saw who was emanating the feeling of foreboding...

Peta was marking.

He couldn't help but beam at the sight, his bangs tickling the corner of his mouth.

"Stop lurking. Either come into the room or leave."

Tom stepped inside immediately, closing the door after him, "Bad day?"

"Hardly." Peta practically growled from his place amongst his mountains of paper.

The pile to his left was much smaller than the neatly set pile to his right. Tom could also spy angry red marks splayed across the ones to the left. Peta himself looked tired and irritable. In front of him was a thick, cut into columns book. His mark sheets and rolls composed it, his writing legible and small amongst it's tiny boxes. He was holding an essay in his left hand and a red pen in the other, his thin hands deceptively lax as his eyes darted across the page. Tom's lips curled at the corners; he always appreciated when Peta wore his hair up and clipped his front bangs out of his hazel eyes.

"What impossible task did you set them this time?" Tom asked as he dropped his bag near the ironing board (careful not to knock it and send it crashing into the television). He withdrew a blue cube, decked in healthy green leaves, "Would you like a cup?"

Peta nodded, eyes leaving the essay in front of him for a moment, "Yes, thank you." He then shifted, sitting up straighter as his eyes found his place again, his voice lifting as Tom disappeared into their kitchen, "We are studying the way the author of _Animal Farm _uses animals to make statements on human traits and behaviors."

Tom puttered about the room, placing the kettle on the stove and filling two cups with tea bags and two sugars for himself. He made sure the strings attached to the teabags remained outside the cup, before he went to collect the milk.

He called out, "And? You've said your students are competent."

"They are. However," He could hear Peta flip the essay in his hands, "Look at this boy's essay. Look at how he spells! How am I supposed to teach a student that doesn't understand he's not in America any longer? He has a sound understanding of the text and the question, his arguments are sound and well supported - but his spelling is atrocious!"

Tom could hear the phantom, "_and they let them get away with this sacrilege over there!_" Peta never voiced, but always thought. He dusted his hands off on a checkered tea towel and strolled out to have a look at the essay tormenting his best friend so.

It was crumpled, as though it had been kept at the bottom of the boy's bag. The boy's handwriting was a mess, ranging from fairly legible to hieroglyphics, but Tom could see what Peta meant. The page wasn't drenched in red, however, how was a teacher supposed to take a student seriously when they couldn't spell 'colour' correctly? The boy was one of Peta's seniors; so he would be finishing school soon. This had to be dealt with fast, lest his marks be lowered. And over such a small thing too. However, what Tom thought as a small and forgivable mistake, Peta (a passionate English teacher) would view in a much more strenuous light.

He spied the boy's name.

"This is The Joker's?"

Peta looked up from another student's essay. This one had pinks, sparkly hearts scribbled around the sides, "Yes. He seems to think we share a bond because we both have long, blonde hair. And he can't even spell _that_ correctly."

"At least he seems to have a grasp on your beloved commas though." Tom grinned, eyes crinkling at their corners as he handed the crinkled pages back and pushed his hair out of his face. It did no good; it immediately fell back in front of his eyes.

Peta huffed, his eyes closing briefly as he droned, "If he thinks he'll be getting special treatment because he incorporates a few correctly used grammatical symbols in his work, he best give up now."

The kettle shrieked, beckoning Tom as Peta moved onto another student's work. He was quick pouring the scalding water, adding the milk to his cup, stirred and tapped the tea spoon on the side of each mug thrice. He was sure to kick the corner of the carpet laid down on the linoleum floor, making note that he or Peta would have to vacuum that weekend, before he presented his booty with a flourish.

"Your drink."

Peta smiled slightly, thanking him quietly before taking a big whiff of his tea. Tom found himself grinning as Peta's frame loosened infinitely, leaving him smiling contently as he took a sip, once, then twice.

"You're welcome."

* * *

**Woffy: **I'm totally sided with Peta in this. We used to have to mark each other's essays (it was to show just how much work it was and encourage helpful criticism, team work and the ability to take criticism amongst us), and my friend always used American English. I have never had to replace my red pen twice in the same term before or since then.

George Orwell wrote _Animal Farm_. It's an interesting read (though I didn't think so at the time)... And I wonder what the creators of the sex prompts list would think if they saw me using one of their prompts as I have. XD

Critique is welcome~


	2. Dream

**Disclaimer: **Simply put... All the characters and ideas canon to _MAR: Marchen Awakens Romance _belongs to Nobuyuki Anzai, and I make no money off this. The OCs, however, belong to me, as does whatever plot that shines through.

_Warnings: _AU and genderbender. Warnings will change almost every chapter. Other than that, all spelling/grammatical errors are my own. If you spot any, mention them and I will fix them.

Music: _Hear it for the Boy, Gloria, She Works Hard for the Money_ - the Young Divas.

Chapter Summary: He's always wanted to do this.

Rating: M

* * *

**They call it a World**

**Dream**

Nanashi can't say he's never dreamt of this. Actually, other than figuring out where he comes from, this has to be his most sought after goal: being surrounded by throngs and throngs of gorgeous, sexy, _nude_ women.

There are brunettes and blondes, red heads and women with hair of ebony silk. They are bare, as one should be when taking a bath. He can barely contain himself as his eyes feast on their smooth flesh, some speckled with freckles, some tanned and some tinted pink from the hot water they're immersed in. Even the petite ones have long, slender legs that seem to go on forever. Nanashi can't help but trace their every curve as his eyes work their way down to their cute feet, before he counts their toes and heads back up again. There are a few older ladies chattering in the room as well. Nanashi doesn't pay them too much mind.

Nanashi had been awed when he'd first stepped into the gargantuan building. He still is. It almost pains him to look away from the lovely women carrying on around him, but he manages, emerald eyes taking in the exquisite tiles decorating the floor around the baths.

No matter how many treasures he steals, he's never dreamt of being able to sit where he is, immersed in steaming water, not in here. Nanashi can't believe he's sitting in the women's bathing house in Pomnius. It's one of those expensive ones that he's only ever seen from the outside, with miles high walls and a dull shell. But stories featuring the area have always described it as a haven for all that could afford it. Nanashi almost wishes he could have a look inside the men's one...

He remembers the first time he'd laid eyes on it. It had almost seemed like a prison, until he'd registered the laughter and chatter echoing from within. He's sitting on a heated step within one of the huge pools in the soaking room. The baths are extravagant, far from the simple miniature lakes he's used to at Luberia, with elegant mosaics, gold trimming and impressively detailed paintings on each wall. The paintings feature women and their children, bathing and paddling in the murky water they're submerged in. They are modest though, nothing like the women around him. There are a few plots of dirt amongst the baths. They're the homes of heat tolerant trees and shrubbery.

He pinches himself, his grin renewed as he rubs away the sting. He's in heaven, that's all there is to it.

But he's here for a reason: he wishes to acquaint himself with the female population and learn about them. He hopes to invite a few of them to their nightly miniature parties.

His men would be around for the next week or two, and he's sure they would all appreciate having pleasant, beautiful and feminine company. He hopes they'll stop eying him as they have been; as much as he appreciates their "you're lookin' good today, boss!" woops each morning, he can't help but feel slightly uncomfortable as their eyes rake up and down his body.

Nanashi supposes he can't blame them though, as his eyes skim over the crowd around him and his hands slide down his smooth stomach; he's rather taken with himself as well.

Galian's first lesson was to be careful of what you stole. The prettiest trinket always has the potential to be the deadliest of ARM, complete with spiffy, eerie glowing. Some jewels were covered in a thin layer of poison, a line of defence that wouldn't stop them from getting stolen but would give the thief their just desserts when they suddenly found themselves keeled over in a ditch with fluffy, white foam bubbling from every orifice.

Nanashi had let his guard down. It was a classic case of what Galian had warned him about: The broach had been incredibly beautiful and decked with rubies, diamonds and opals that shined hypnotically in the light. Stallion had joked about how it'd suit him just fine, a laugh echoing around the snug cottage they'd been invading. Nanashi - ever ready to include himself in his men's fun - had immediately adorned it. It was slightly too delicate for his tastes, but he couldn't deny the craftsmanship was excellent. Unfortunately, he hadn't expected or realised the broach's real reason for being until he'd started glowing like a fire worm within a pitch black cave.

Being turned into a girl had been one of the oddest sensations he'd ever felt. It was all warm and prickly and not unpleasant, but odd. He'd felt himself shrinking and stretching, his every cell warping until his lithe, thinly muscled frame was slender and curvy and extraordinarily soft. His hair was as mangy as it always was, shiny but coarse, like cleaned straw, his skin blemish free except for the calluses still attached to his palms and his favourite body part was replaced with his _other _favourite body part.

He'd quickly decided that owning one of the most amazing sets of breasts he's ever had the chance to fondle is a definite plus. And fondle them he did, watching with rapt attention as he pushed them around and squished together, leaving himself distracted from his original mission of getting dressed. He hadn't been able to help himself. He'd squeezed them. He'd bounced on the balls of his feet and made them jiggle. They fit in his hands so perfectly. Nanashi had quickly decided that _this _was most likely women took so long to get ready each morning or before he took them out.

Women are so_ lucky_.

In some areas. Nanashi immediately pushes the memory of his first time answering nature's call in the body he's in away. He hopes to never repeat the entire affair. Rather, he wishes to wipe that memory from the face of the world and anyone who is stupid enough to bring it up will be forced to clean each of the ships at Port Treblanca with a deck brush - inside and out, rope, sails and all.

But none of the women here know about that or about who he really is and he plans to exploit that to the fullest extent.

He turns to the woman beside him. She's on the dumpy side, with dimples and a sprinkling of freckles covering her shoulders. She's cute with round doe brown eyes and hair that's flecked with silver. He taps her shoulder gently, tearing her attention away from the other older women she'd been talking with.

"Excuse me, miss," He says quietly, with a shy smile, making sure to hold his arms in front of himself modestly. He revels in the way his breasts wrap around his arms, "I'm new around here and I'm not sure about the etiquette yet. Was I supposed to bring my own soap?"

"Aren't you the prettiest thing!" She exclaims with a raspy voice and a kind, warm smile. She turns in her seat, "Yes, yes, you were supposed to bring your own. But I'm sure someone here won't mind sharing. I'd offer you mine, but I'm afraid I've got rashes in unseemly places and I'd hate to see you suffer from them."

Nanashi fights to hide a cringe, "Ah, I see, thank you. I'll just ask around..."

"Oh, now, none of that! My grand-baby's here. I'll ask her."

Out of habit, Nanashi averts his eyes as the lady stands up, the water drizzling down her ample body in hurried rapids. She calls and waves across the room, her voice laced with laughter. The noise seems much louder than the chatter in the room, lingering in his ears even as she sits back down.

"How old's your grand-daughter, if you don't mind my asking?" Nanashi asks as the woman shares knowing looks with the ladies beside her.

"17. She's quite mature for her age, though she is quite lazy." The woman chortles to herself, her generous breasts bouncing as she does, causing ripples in the mineral-rich water, "Ah, the young ones of today. They don't realise how easy they have things. Why, when I was her age, there were no where near as many ARM around MAR as there are now. We had to do things by hand."

Nanashi is surprised to hear that. His eyebrows float up near his hair line, "You farm?"

"Yes, of course," The lady is still laughing, "Do I look like one of those prissy rich folk to you? I have worked this land all my life. As an act of gratitude, I am allowed one bath here each fortnight." Her eyes widen and one of her thick, stumpy hands flies up to cover her mouth, "Oh, but I haven't introduced myself yet! My apologies, I'm Freya."

"It's nice to meet you, I'm-"

"You called nanna?"

Nanashi's eyes lift to the opposite side of the bath. His toes can just touch the wall if he lays flat. But he doesn't want to disappear into the water today, rather, he sits up straighter and beams brightly.

"Hello, Gorgeous~" He practically sings.

Freya and her grand-daughter regard him oddly, and Nanashi forces a blush to his cheeks as he sinks himself into the water up to his eyes. He'd forgotten; his shell looked like a woman now. Oops. It's a good think Nanashi is used to conducting damage control - he has to be, with what the children of Luberia overhear when the men have put a few away.

He makes sure to make himself look very small and very ashamed at his outburst, forcing splodges of pink to his face as he covered his now plump pink lips with his hand.

"H-Hello." The girl says, eventually.

"Come now, child, join us." Freya ushers the girl into the pool across from Nanashi, "Did you bring your soap?"

"Yes, nanna."

"Good girl."

Freya raises a thick arm towards Nanashi, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name."

Nanashi allows himself a small smile, "Ulrica, ma'am. But my friends just call me Ula."

Freya nods, "And this is Wilona."

Nanashi busies himself with looking the girl over, as her grandmother speaks softly and clearly to her. She has shoulder length, dark hair, cobalt blue eyes and a thin body, with the tiniest bit of pudge hovering around her stomach. Nanashi wants to run a hand over it, it sticks out so cutely. She has long fingers, but short palms, and legs with prominent muscles bulging with her every step - she must do something around the farm for those to be there.

"Why are you grinning like that?"

Nanashi blinks up at the girl. She's standing over him, hands resting on her hips as she glares. Obviously, she's not too happy to have baby sitting duty. Not that Nanashi blames her. He knows he can be a handful.

"You're so pretty!" He gushes, finally, as Wilona motions for him to follow her. Nanashi eyes her ass as they leave the pool. He has to force his hands to his sides, lest he reach out and pinch the white globes.

"Whatever."

The rest of Nanashi's enthusiastic attempts at conversation collapse like a pyramid of cards with every breath of air; practically falling apart as he starts stacking them up. He starts to pay more attention to those around him and just what he's supposed to be doing, as time wears on and he takes to laying on the tiled floor and air drying. He can't remember a time he was able to breathe clearer than he can here; he surmises that it's the mineral enriched steam floating about cleaning out his sinuses. But Wilona's unfriendliness lingered; it annoyed him that he hadn't been able to crack through her unsociable shell. It was an odd occurrence, because with Nanashi's charming personality and incredibly good looks, who wouldn't like him?

It didn't matter much though; whilst following Wilona around like a stray puppy, Nanashi met some of the loveliest ladies he'd ever had the pleasure of laying his right then sparkling eyes on. There was Helga, Tania, Florence and Aeris, not that he was going to forget the beautiful older ladies, Alice, Gloria and Vivi. They were playful and fun, with attractive bodies and shining personalities.

"Why aren't I invited?"

Nanashi idly turns his head, large eyes blinking lazily at the girl. Not for a moment does he remove his head from the comfy rest he's been dozing on.

"Hm?" He asks. His shy charade had been forgotten entirely sometime between talking with Vivi and giggling madly with Tania. He doesn't think it matters much now; he's successfully infiltrated the baths. It was the entire reason he'd taken it on in the first place (that and he didn't want to scare them away with playful flirting and leery glances - playing charades had taken his mind off sizing the girls up).

"You've been asking people to a party, haven't you?" Wilona grumbles. Her eyes are narrowed, "Why aren't I invited?"

Nanashi sits up, his now higher voice stitched with honest surprise, "I didn't think you liked me."

Wilona huffs as she sits up rigidly and starts to ring her hair of water. Nanashi should probably start doing that; he's been in here for a good few hours and despite his having left the water for the warm sun smiling down on them, he still looks like a prune. Wilona wraps her practically black hair in a towel and sets it atop her head like a crown. Nanashi grins at it - Wilona looks quite regal with her elegant neck on show for everyone to appreciate.

"If you wanted to come, you should have told me!" Nanashi flashes a toothy grin, "I'd appreciate having someone to talk to."

Again, Wilona huffs.

"Whatever. I'll meet you at the bath's gates in three hours."

Before Nanashi gets the chance to do more than beam again, she's gone. Her wide hips swing back and forth as she makes her way to the changing rooms.

Nanashi sighs as she disappears from view, before he starts ringing his own wheat blonde hair out. He supposes he can't get everything his way. Flirting with women whilst he looks like one isn't one of the best of ideas and he doubts his usual charms will work in the same way. He grins as another pretty woman catches his attention, hair forgotten as he turns to her, compliments her skin and asks her how she manages to keep her hands so soft and smooth whilst fondling them.

You win some and lose some. Nanashi is sure he's a winner this time though. He's had an _very_ enjoyable afternoon. Now it's time to catch the eye of some hotshot, rich man and convince him to buy him dinner; him and his men aren't the best of cooks. Surely it isn't that hard to bat his eyes up at them and talk in a cutesy voice.

Later that week, he'll ask Dorothy how to fix himself. After he manages to cop a feel of her hair first; he's got money riding on his fulfilling that task (and he's hoping Jack's mother will pay in that mouth watering broth of hers).

But before then, he's got a party to attend.

-----

**Woffy: **Generally, I'm not much of a fan of genderbender fics - unless they're for _Hetalia_, but even then I can only really stand genderbent France, Hungary and Romano. But that's never stopped me from having a gander. I've never seen anyone make the character take advantage of the situation. I mean... If I magically turned into a guy one day, I'd do exactly as Nanashi has done.

Thank you the Ladies Luck for your review and corrections~ I've fixed them.

Once again, critique is encouraged and reviews are love.


	3. Find Me in the Dark

**Disclaimer: **Simply put... All the characters and ideas canon to _MAR: Marchen Awakens Romance _belong to Nobuyuki Anzai, and I make no money off this. The OCs, however, belong to me, as does whatever plot that shines through.

_Warnings: _Swearing and mood whiplash, that is all. Warnings will change almost every chapter. Other than that, all spelling/grammatical errors are my own. If you spot any, mention them and I will fix them.

Music: _One Winged Angel _- Sephiroth's theme song, from _Final Fantasy VII_.

Chapter Summary: You can't see meee~

-----

**They call it a World**

**Find Me in the Dark**

Bad day,

Long day,

Every day -

A crap day.

Her editor's mad,

Her feet hurt,

The babysitter's sad;

It seems her boyfriend hadn't learnt.

She pats the girls shoulder,

Tells her ev'rything will be just fine,

Just drop the ass that's troubling her,

And go out and have a good time.

She remembers when she used to -

Do that every weekend.

When she wasn't caring for two,

When she was the one who'd depend.

"Stay safe, Erika,"

She tells the betrodden girl,

As she heads towards the elevator -

She's as precious as a pearl.

How did parents teach their kids to be -

So thoughtful and considerate?

Erika also had a lovely personality -

So sweet and hard to bait.

"Ginta's in bed," she mumbles,

As she turns to see if the cat is fed

She wanders to her son's room and stumbles,

It seems he hadn't remembered her threat.

Oh, her little boy -

Is such a big shit.

He screeches about his toys,

He bites and he hits.

He doesn't pick up after himself,

He complains about her cooking,

He tells her that it tastes like felt,

Until they both end up sooking.

But he loves her stories,

His smile's always as bright as the sun,

He makes her read them most mornings,

And before bed, he pleads for one.

He's her inspiration,

She's his other world entrepanor,

He's got a growing infactuation -

With the worlds she unfurls.

Shuffle, shuffle,

Here he comes,

A bundle of trouble,

Who can't do his sums.

But he doesn't appear,

Doesn't tackle her as a greeting.

She's starting to fear,

That his tiny feet were retreating.

"Is someone there?"

Worry's evident in her tone.

All she seems to ask is air,

As the silence stretches on.

She slinks down the hall,

Peers around corners like a spy.

She can't hear anyone at all

Oh, what she'll do if anyone harms her boy...

Her room is blanketed in inky blackness,

The only light reflected off the moon.

She sights shaking mountains,

Oh, the relief nearly makes her swoon.

She can hear his snickers,

Smiles with his every single peep.

His hair, it flickers -

Out and under her spotted bedsheets.

"Oh where, oh where is Ginta now?"

She sings with a playful tone,

"Has he skipped town?

"Has he done something I won't condone?"

"I'm the best ninja ever."

She hears him murmur quietly.

He continues on with much fevour,

"You won't ever find me~"

She stomps around the room,

Listens to him try and stiffle his giggles,

Then she goes to the bed and looms.

Oh, he'll regret not moving into the middle...

She taps at her bedcovers -

Or rather, the boy hidden beneath -

He stills before he flounders,

"Is that an idiot thief?"

She flings off the sheets,

With a passionate, "Aha!"

She grabs at his feet,

And tugs him towards her.

"Mum, stop that!"

His voice jumps to very shrill,

They tumble back -

He seems absolutely thrilled.

She laughs along with him,

As she tickles his sides,

She reminds herself to give his fringe a trim,

As they settle and grin alike.

"You found me, mum!"

Ginta beams, his cheeks aglow,

"That was really fun,

"But how did you know?"

He's so much like his father, it hurt,

She realised as she listened to him babble anew.

"You'll just have to catch me first."

He screamed after her as she flew.

"Hey, no fair! You got a head start!"

His feet clobbered the ground.

"Fair shmair, remember, I'm a ninja!"

She dived into bed with an ugly symphony of sound.

They wrestled, tickled and mucked about,

Until their neighbours knocked angrily,

"Some of us are trying to sleep, you louts!"

She shushed her son quickly.

"Time for bed, Ginta."

She soothed as he argued.

"Tell me a story, mama?"

"You'll have to be in bed soon."

He rushed away,

Grabbed a book,

Let her find a comfortable way to lay,

He nearly tripped over his boot.

"This one? I've memorised every line."

"Koyuki's the princess, right?

"And she has a clown or a mime?

"C'mon read it, so I can dream of them tonight!"

She can't say no;

Ginta's grin's a gift.

She kisses his brow,

He pushes at her arm to lift.

They curl up together,

So that Ginta's hair's teasing her nose.

"This tale starts with a strange tailor,

"One that fell in love with a rose."

An hour later, they're asleep.

Their small breathes and rickety snores -

Bouncing off each other's cheeks.

Everything was peaceful, that's for sure.

But where Ginta's dreams are peaceful,

Filled with excitement and adventure.

Hers are filled with evil people.

They make her sicker than any cancer.

"Danna's dead."

Says a young boy.

"You need to be fed."

"More wounded, ahoy!"

It's the saddest sight -

She's ever beared witness to.

Her insides freeze up with fright -

When she notices her husband's limbs askew.

"Please be alive..."

-----

**Woffy: **Does anyone remember that contest savory pie had goin' a while back? "Find me in the Dark"? Yeah, I was inspired by it. XD I'll be back to make changes over the next few days.

I've found doing these simple rhyming poems really fun to do~ Sorry it's a big block of text. Originally they were seperated into four lines a stanza, but the site doesn't seem to know the difference between breaks and paragraphs.

This flashfic thing's got my stomach in knots though... So no working on anything else until I've got that and have it either finished or practically finished.

Again, critique is welcome~


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